


Burden to Bear

by Nebbles



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebbles/pseuds/Nebbles
Summary: It was his responsibility to get them home safely. His brother’s life was in his own hands, and Wirt let it slip away.





	

Oh, how he didn’t want to believe the doctor’s words.

The impact of them hit, freezing his entire body in place, turning his blood into ice. The wind escaped from Wirt’s lungs as he choked on air, trying to process what he’d just been told.

Greg didn’t make it.

“We’re so sorry,” the doctor told his parents, “we tried to revive him. There was too much water in his lungs. We tried everything, but… he just didn’t make it.”

The words didn’t even sound sincere. They sounded rehearsed, as if he had given this speech several times before, and had to recite it over and over every day.

Maybe he did. Wirt didn’t know.

“We’re going to move him soon. I figure that… it’d be best,” he looked over at Wirt, “I’ll let you say your goodbyes. I’ll return shortly.”

The doctor adjusted his glasses, giving an awkward cough before leaving the room.

Wirt watched as his mother burst into tears as her husband embraced her, holding her tightly in his arms. Tears sprung in his eyes as well, unable to look over at the soon to be empty bed. 

He was glad his friends were escorted out of the room before the doctor gave the news. They didn’t need to see this. They didn’t deserve to see this.

 _‘God,’_ he thought, nausea weighing down his body, _‘this is my fault.’_

This was their first Halloween together, as his parents felt like they were old enough to go without parental supervision. He was supposed to help Greg have a fun-filled night of trick-or-treating. They were supposed to eat candy together, watch scary movies and drink hot chocolate with their parents.

Wirt failed. He didn’t care about what Greg wanted to do. He wanted to see Sara, he wanted to hang out with his friends – he didn’t want to be burdened by his brother.

Wirt hated himself for thinking that.

He got annoyed with Greg in the Unknown. He didn’t care anymore. He gave up. He deserved to die, not Greg. 

All Greg wanted to do was be a good brother.

“Wirt, dear…” His mother approached him, wiping tears from her eyes. “Honey… it’s not your fault, okay? We almost lost you, too…”

“It is my fault…” Wirt shook his head, “it’s absolutely my fault…”

“Dear, none of us could have done anything…” She put her hand on his, squeezing it gently. Everything the doctor told her – there was no way she could ever blame Wirt. Even if she would have reprimanded the boys for going over the wall, there was no way they knew that train was coming. There was no way they knew the lake was there.

It just couldn’t be his fault. Accidents happened, sometimes more horrible and painful than imagined, but no one could control them. To be able to control fate in such a way would be power beyond comprehension. She wished she had this power, to have her both boys survive, but it was unobtainable. She knew there was nothing Wirt could have done.

“I could have. You don’t understand, I--” Wirt inhaled deeply, trying to stave off the feeling of panic. His breath felt uneven, and the room was spinning. 

Why did he give up? Why did he accept they were never going home? Why didn’t he see Greg’s efforts to get them out? Why did he realize that he needed Greg much too late, and that he truly valued his younger brother?

Why was he such a terrible brother?

He tried to say more, but found his breath was caught in his throat. Wirt struggled to take in air, his breaths coming out in ragged, pained gasps. His mom’s hold his hand tightened as his body shook, the feeling of ice encasing his body. The room was spinning faster and Wirt couldn’t focus on anything. Tears began falling down his cheeks, his vision blurring, his thoughts being overtaken by nothing but guilt.

It was his responsibility to get them home safely. His brother’s life was in his own hands, and Wirt let it slip away.

_‘It’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault--’_

“Wirt, honey, try and focus – mom and dad are right here, okay?” She wiped away her tears once again, both hands clasping Wirt’s desperately. Her own pain could wait. What she had to focus on now was making Wirt’s panic go away. Her objective, no matter what, was going to make sure that her child was okay. 

She knew, for a very long time, Wirt wasn’t going to be okay. She didn’t expect him to recover any faster than her or her husband. However, she knew how much this was going to affect him. She knew, for months, years, decades perhaps, Wirt was going to feel responsible for Greg’s death. That despite it being out of his hands, the guilt would weigh on his soul for a very long time.

As Wirt’s breathing continued to get more ragged, she scooted over on the hospital bed, wrapping her arms around her son tightly. Her husband walked over, putting one hand on her shoulder, and the other on Wirt’s.

He didn’t want to go through the pain of losing a child. It was something he never imagined he would have to endure. He’d have to hide that pain around Wirt – even with not knowing Wirt very well yet, he knew making sure he was okay was more important. Wirt was too young to be going through grief like this. 

He thought the same for he and his wife, but quickly pushed it away.

Eventually, Wirt felt the pressure in his chest fade away. His grip on reality slowly settled back in, his vision coming back into focus as the faces of his parents looked at him in teary-eyed concern. The chills running down his spine continued, but Wirt was relieved he could breathe again. He slumped into his mother’s arms, letting a loud sob escape, throwing his arms around her as he wept.

She gently ran a hand through Wirt’s hair as he wept into her shoulder, trying to let even a fraction of his pain escape. 

“We’ll get through this, honey. I promise.”

-  
Wirt couldn’t bring his hands to pick up the shovel. He didn’t want to throw the dirt over Greg’s coffin. He still wasn’t ready to accept this.

He made it through the service, somehow. He wept openly alongside his parents, in front of his friends, who could only offer condolences. They didn’t know what else to say.

One hand tentatively reached out, shaking, trying to form a steady grip. After a few tries, he finally kept a stable hold on the shovel, and was able to throw the first clump of dirt over the coffin.

Wirt felt like he was going to vomit. The crisp autumn air felt stale in his lungs. 

He could have let his parents handle this, but to Wirt, this was something he had to do. Doing this, maybe, would start to absolve his guilt. Perhaps giving his brother a proper burial would ease him. He at least owed this to Greg. 

He begged Ms. Daniels for the rock Greg took to place by the grave. While he didn’t have to ask more than once, he had begged over and over to let him place it by the tombstone. Greg deserved it. 

Once he had finished burying Greg, he gently placed the rock by his grave.

“I’m so sorry,” he knelt next to the grave, “you… you really deserved a better brother than me…”

And that was a rock fact.


End file.
